


A Mirror of Lies

by Skullszeyes



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coffee, Drabble, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Male Friendship, Non-Consensual Touching, Out of Character, Strangers, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 07:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Elliot doesn't like when people touch him, except one.





	A Mirror of Lies

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was short, and it wasn't meant to be much because I just wanted to write something. I kind of wished I wrote more for this fandom because I really do like Mr. Robot! And I enjoy Rami Malek as Elliot Alderson. And I ship Tyrelliot! I just love that throughout the show, Elliot doesn't mind Tyrell touching him, unlike most people.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Elliot wasn’t entirely sure who he was speaking too. It happened sometimes, he was zoning out again in this rather endless conversation. He nodded, giving the man and woman a smile, something reassuring that spoke understanding, when Elliot actually didn’t understand much from what they were talking about. 

He slouched, a frown on his lips, his eyes wandering away from the rather pristine white blouse the woman is wearing, and the high collar the man is wearing. They both smell of detergent, and cleaning products, which Elliot has a bit of knowledge of the usage in other methods than the ones these two are talking about.

The man waved, a smile on his lips, it looks fake, and he walks away. The woman stays, lingers, smiles awkwardly that it makes Elliot awkward. 

“How was your day?” she asked, the taste of cliche wafts in the air like a dust filled room that hasn’t been touched by daylight. 

Elliot wavers, and he begins to turn, but the woman with straight brown hair leans forward, and he spots her hand and Elliot sucks in a breath. It’s shocking to stare at the way the woman goes still, her hand inches from touching his arm that’s covered by his black sweater. 

He feels somehow cornered, and a smile curls on her lips, a knowing look as if she can see through him, but she might be looking through a different window, or maybe a mirror, because the intention is all wrong, and Elliot shudders when she steps closer, her hand an inch away before her fingers touch him. 

He visibly shudders, a revulsion coiling inside his gut, but he can’t seem to move away. He’s not really sure why, but he can’t.

“I was wondering,” she said, her hand keeping him where he is before he could run, “if you wanted to get coffee.”

Everyone was an enemy to each other, and sometimes to one another, even when they didn’t understand it. She was looking at something that was wrong, and she didn’t want to know what it is. 

It was all wrong.

Elliot gritted his teeth, trying to calm down, but he couldn’t, his heart thudded way too much in his chest. A pounding in his temples, his skin started to feel overheated, a warmth that sheltered itself within his sweater.

“Can you let go of me.”

The woman blinks, and pulls her hand back, and Elliot relaxes once she’s no longer touching him. 

“I’m sorry.” _Are you?_ “I didn’t mean too...I mean, I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee some time, maybe after work, or during one of our breaks?” Her face is red, eyes wandering, she’s losing her cool from the tense words he used. 

Elliot steps back, ready to say no. 

“Elliot.”

And he goes still once again, and before he could turn and see who it is, the familiar tone is almost welcome until he feels a hand placed directly on his shoulder, and Elliot is pulled against Tyrell Wellick’s side. 

“Sorry, Anne,” Tyrell said, eyes shining, grip soft, “but I have Elliot for a lunch date, so if you don’t mind, I would also like to speak to him alone.”

The woman looks between them, and mostly at Elliot who isn’t visibly tensing in Tyrell’s partial embrace. There’s a peculiar shift before she comes to an understanding, and she's apologizing before walking away. 

Tyrell’s arm slides away from Elliot’s shoulder, his hand falls to his wrist, and he tugged him along. “Do you drink coffee?”

Elliot tucks his hands into his pockets. “Not usually, but I don’t mind it.”

Tyrell smirked over his shoulder, and Elliot frowns, “Then you won’t mind if I ask you out for coffee, unless you want Anne to take you.”

Elliot glares, but he lets out a sigh and loses the slight resentment. He should also say no to this proposal. “I don’t mind coffee.”

Tyrell stops him in the hall, empty of people, and he steps closer toward Elliot, once more in his personal space that Elliot doesn’t mind. Tyrell always has this strong presence, a strong scent that Elliot feels pulled into.

“I’ll come find you so you don’t forget about our coffee date,” Tyrell says, and he smiles, and it looks less sarcastic, less menacing and strange, but somehow sweet and understanding. And Elliot feels that he doesn’t have anything to worry about, because unlike most people who lie between their teeth, and he knows for certain Tyrell lies, Elliot can see the truth without bothering to dig for it.

It’s right in front of him, and he understands it when he sees it. 

“Okay.”


End file.
